The King of Iron Fist Tournament 4and then some
by Magneto's Revenge
Summary: Chapter 7, finally! Kazuya does some bonding with the object of Paul's affection, but has alterior motives...
1. Briefing

Okay, this one is much better than my Dragonball fic, I promise. That one started out good, but when I started reading what I had written from the second chapter onward, I discovered that it was crap, so that one is being revised. For now, you can see my Tekken story -.- (which was written over a summer or two in extreme bouts of boredom and insanity, and purely for my own amusement).  
  
This one is about me and my best friend Cheryl being CIA agents in the Tekken universe, but you can find that out for yourselves I'm sure.  
  
By the way, I don't own Tekken (or any of it's characters), which belongs to Namco, and I definitely don't own the CIA. That would be fun, though, wouldn't it? I do, however, own myself, and Cheryl owns herself, and if you use us in some other fanfiction (who knows why you would, but just in case) we'll hunt you down with poison-tipped sporks and kill you.  
  
Oh, one last thing, I don't mind flames at all, but if you're going to criticize my work, please have the sense to make yourself look at least semi-intelligent and use proper grammar, don't use the caps lock, and don't betray your limited vocabulary by spouting the 'f' word every five seconds. When I actually had a website, this was a big problem. People like that give me severe migraines. The thing about poison-tipped sporks applies to you people too, but I'll first torture you with duct tape, cod liver oil, and snake skin covered in Vaseline (which I also don't own). And since you hate my work so much, I'll read it aloud to you for eight days without pause before I maim you.  
  
ONWARD!!!  
  
It was a sunny summer day in Miami when Kiley and her partner and best friend Cheryl were called into work. Kiley was mulling over this very thought along with all the other things the two could be doing at the moment while, instead, they waited outside their boss' office.  
  
Her medium length blonde hair was pulled into a ponytail high on top of her head and she was wearing casual jeans and a beige colored blouse. Cheryl's hair was, as usual, in a bun, and she wore a similar outfit with a denim vest. They had been shopping when the call from work came on Cheryl's cell phone, and since they had thought they had the day off, casual dress was the order of the day. After weeks of wearing nothing but business suits for hours on end, they had a day off coming. Apparently, today was not that day.  
  
"Jack will see you now." the secretary called over to them after they had been sitting, twiddling their thumbs, for an hour.  
  
The second they walked in the door, Kiley nearly got smacked in the face with a briefing folder and a pair of airplane tickets. "Those are for you." Their boss said hastily while searching his desk from top to bottom feverishly. Kiley flipped through the folder then examined the tickets.  
  
"Tokyo, Jack? That's just a little out of our jurisdiction, isn't it?" one eyebrow rose. Cheryl immediately grabbed the tickets to inspect them for herself.  
  
"Yeah, well, headquarters in Langley told me to send you." Jack sighed, seating himself and motioning for the girls to do the same.  
  
"Headquarters? This sounds big." Cheryl said while still looking over the tickets.  
  
"It is big. Quit trying to figure out if those tickets are real and look at your briefings." Jack snapped, annoyed. Cheryl set the tickets down on his desk and looked at the folder over Kiley's shoulder. Kiley skimmed over the first few pages and then came across what looked like two passes.  
  
"The King of Iron Fist Tournament 4..." she read. Underneath the passes was a filled out registration form for herself. "You want me to enter this?"  
  
"You're a martial artist, aren't you?"  
  
"Hardly good enough to compete. Much less in an international championship." She replied dryly.  
  
"Aw, come on, where's your sense of spirit?" Jack leaned forward whilst making the sarcastic remark.  
  
"Isn't the US already represented by that bonehead Paul Phoenix?" Kiley asked with just a hint of disgust. Cheryl glanced over at Kiley with a raised eyebrow. Just the night before, she had been saying how fine Paul Phoenix was. Maybe it was the booze talking.  
  
"Yes, but that hardly matters," Jack replied chuckling, "Japan alone has had as many as six competitors at once in previous tournaments. Besides, this year I think Great Britain will be having several as well..." Kiley merely stared at him blankly.  
  
"You're not required to win." Jack went on, "You're going to enter the tournament to gather information on the Mishima Conglomerate."  
  
"Mishima?" Cheryl reiterated.  
  
"Heihachi Mishima to be exact, the founder of the 'Mishima Zaibatsu,' and the man who organizes these tournaments, is said to have dealings with international drug lords, terrorists, arms dealers, and God knows what else. That's what you're investigating. Somewhere in that folder is a map of the island you'll be competing on. We've highlighted the Mishima compounds where illegal materials are suspected to be hidden. On your free time, that's what you two will be checking out."  
  
"Pardon, sir," Cheryl said after a pause, "but why not leave this up to the Japanese government?"  
  
"We would love to, but not much has been done to suppress the Zaibatsu's power. We suspect bribery on Heihachi's part. And cheer up, Kiley, Heihachi Mishima was once titled the greatest martial artist in the world, but he's quite old now. You might even win this thing!" Jack smiled.  
  
"Might I get some information on my opponents, Jack?" Kiley inquired after giving him a sour look.  
  
"Most of the names have yet to be released," Jack said, putting his feet up on his desk, reading through another file, "but Heihachi will definitely be there, and yes, Paul Phoenix will most likely also be there, having won the last tournament," Kiley snorted, "now, off with you, I've got stuff to do." Jack waved them away, and the girls went home to prepare for their assignment. 


	2. Airplanes and Airheads

Once again, I do not own Tekken (or anything affiliated with it), the CIA, or TM Revolution, or P.O.D., two much loved musical groups mentioned in this chapter. All I own is myself. And Cheryl owns herself. Fear the Spork!  
  
Just to clear something up, this story was originally written in reference to things my friend Cheryl and I already know. I'll try to elaborate on "inside joke" type things, if I even notice them while I'm typing. The original also had our last names in it, but I'm leaving those out for obvious reasons O.o And this is also assuming Paul gave up the Mishima Zaibatsu after winning the tournament.  
  
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On the plane to San Francisco, their first stop, both girls slept most of the way. It had been several hours before they arrived to switch planes. They ran to they gate they were directed to, but found that they were an hour early. They set their handbags down and sat near the gate to their non-stop flight to Tokyo's Narita Airport. They pulled out CD players and Kiley listened to TM Revolution while Cheryl listened to P.O.D.  
  
About 10 minutes into the wait, they felt a hard -thud- on the row of benches. Kiley jolted upright and ripped her headphones from her ears thinking something was up. When she realized that all was well, she looked across the bench to a ragged-looking man with long, blonde hair, just a bit brighter than her own ash blonde locks, a scruffy but well-tamed beard, and large bushy eyebrows, looking up at the ceiling. He was wearing expensive looking leather over a white muscle-shirt as if he had just arrived from a motorbike rally in Palm Springs. Cheryl looked over to see Kiley walking toward him. She made to go after her, but decided to watch from her place on the bench. She kept her headphones off to listen in.  
  
"Paul Phoenix?" she heard her friend ask the scraggly-looking man. This startling coincidence made her jump.  
  
"Who wants to know?" he looked down from the ceiling at an attractive young woman, which made him immediately regret what he had just said. Kiley noted how exhausted he sounded and let it slide.  
  
"Kiley. I'll be competing with you in the fourth King of Iron Fist Tournament." She held out her hand. Paul took a deep breath, still kicking himself for what he had said, and paused before replying.  
  
"You're the agent then."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"You're the agent from the CIA. They tried to hire me to do your job, but I told them I didn't want anything to interrupt my concentration on winning. Yes, I'm Paul Phoenix, by the way." He shook Kiley's still- waiting hand.  
  
"You don't mind that Heihachi Mishima has been using illegal means to expand his empire?" Kiley retorted. Cheryl cringed at her friend's biting tone. She was afraid Paul might take offense, but still she decided to remain where she was.  
  
"What Heihachi Mishima does or doesn't do doesn't concern me. Besides, if I went snooping around his base the way your agency wanted me to, I would've been recognized within seconds. So much for an investigation," he said matter-of-factly, not seeming to notice Kiley's earlier condescending tone at all, "I didn't think they would send a woman to the tournament though. Did they at least give you a choice?" he went on, moving over so she could sit down next to him. She ignored the sexist tone in his last statement.  
  
"No, they didn't. In fact, my boss nearly knocked my partner and I unconscious with the paperwork." Cheryl waved upon being mentioned. Paul laughed jovially and waved back at her.  
  
Cheryl decided to join them then, so she picked up the backpacks and carried them over to a seat across from Kiley.  
  
"Paul Phoenix, this is my partner Cheryl. Cheryl, Paul." They greeted each other and the three continued to talk until approached by an older man of Asian descent. Paul greeted him with familiarity.  
  
"Marshall, meet my two lovely new friends Kiley and Cheryl! Girls, this is Marshall Law; he'll also be participating in the tournament with us. I assist in managing Marshall's dojo off and on."  
  
"I've heard your name more than a few times before, Mr. Law, but I never realized you were American." Kiley rose to shake his hand.  
  
"I'm not. I was born in China, but I moved to San Francisco about thirty years ago. My son is a native though. He's about your age, I'd guess. You're both competing?" he finished on a side note.  
  
"Kiley is, not me," Cheryl piped in, "I'm just here for the red-tape while she's in the tournament." Marshall and Paul chuckled.  
  
"All the same, it'll be a pleasure traveling with you two." Marshall shook Cheryl's hand and sat down next to her. "Oh, I almost forgot!" he reached into his orange duffel bag and pulled out some boxing tape. "I knew you would forget this. I was able to get your message from Cincinnati in time. All in a rush and you forget the most important thing on the list!" Cheryl snickered at that and settled back into her seat, realizing that she was rather tired as well.  
  
"I left mine in Manhattan." Paul explained, letting all know he was still alive. Kiley thought a moment.  
  
"Could I borrow some of that?" she asked.  
  
"Sure, I'll bring it to the tournament grounds and you can have as much as you need." Paul smiled at her and then rested his head against the back of the bench once more.  
  
And so it went, with Paul and Cheryl dozing off, and Marshall and Kiley talking until it was time to board. Upon taking their seats, they discovered that they were all in the same row of four. Much to Kiley's dismay, she was seated next to Paul.  
  
Despite his earlier exhaustion, Paul was wide-awake through the entire flight. It was Marshall that slept the day through, and soundly at that. Paul seemed to be delighted at the thought of eight hours on a plane next to the two women, but Kiley and Cheryl were most intent on studying the layout of the Mishima Compound and its guard posts.  
  
Paul glanced over at them casually. Without realizing it, Kiley shoved his head backward. Violently. Paul was sure he heard his neck snap.  
  
"I'm sorry!" she gasped, "It's just that these are classified documents!"  
  
"But I've been there before!" Paul protested.  
  
"But! Classified!"  
  
"Well," he huffed, "I can tell you that these are all at least twenty years old."  
  
"What!?" both girls screeched at once, disturbing more than a few of the other passengers.  
  
"These are from the -second- tournament. They're about as worthless as those 'pearls' that woman behind us is wearing." The three heard an indignant gasp, but ignored it. "Your agency has -really- screwed you." Kiley's head fell to her knees and Cheryl smacked her forehead in frustration. Paul got an idea just then and snatched the map from Kiley's lap. "Tell you what," he smirked slyly, "I'll give you all the information I know from the third tournament which was only three years ago. I can't make any promises, but it might be the same since no one tried to go all homicidal on Heihachi that time. Well, except his grandson, but that's normal. That family's got issues." He received two blank stares. "In exchange for that and the tape, you've got to go out on a date with me." His finger rested on Kiley's nose. When she realized what he had just said, she blushed and shoved his finger away. Cheryl stared at him, almost expecting him to die any second now for touching her. Neither could answer, just gape at him. He ignored them then and gave his own answer. He winked at Kiley before pulling a red Sharpie (which I don't own!!!!) marker from his pack and began scribbling all over the previous marks and making new ones. Kiley stared at it aghast.  
  
"There are three times as many guards than before! Oh my God, we'll never get anywhere!" she despaired.  
  
"Not to worry," Paul's grin widened, "I refused the CIA, but since I now know my partners are such lovely young ladies, I'll help bust some entrances." He flexed a bicep making Kiley roll her eyes.  
  
"'Bust some entrances?' Won't that get us noticed?" Cheryl asked dryly, meant to be rhetoric.  
  
"Nah, not if we take out the guards before they can call for backup." Paul crossed his arms over his chest after handing the map back over to Cheryl, who was seeing the revisions for the first time. She whistled, astonished.  
  
"That's going to take a lot of busting."  
  
"It'll be okay. I've got a friend who can help us. I'm sure he'll be competing this year."  
  
Kiley wanted to ask whom his deadbeat friend might be, but she decided that insulting the present help wouldn't be wise. They needed all the help they could get.  
  
The next few hours were spent trying to decipher Paul's chicken scratch, in Paul's case scarfing down complimentary peanuts, and in Marshall's case sleeping. And snoring. Loudly. Paul jabbed him in the ribs a few times, but that didn't stop him.  
  
"Probably awake," he muttered, "and laughing."  
  
Paul began to think about Marshall's son Forrest just as the captain announced that they would be landing in a moment. He looked over at the girls who were shoving their 'important,' classified documents into their packs forcefully. Paul's eyebrows twitched slightly in annoyance.  
  
About twenty minutes later, they were all grabbing up their hand luggage and trying to wake Marshall. When he finally roused, the plane was empty but for the four of them. 


	3. Heihachi Mishima

WOW, people actually reviewed before this one was posted! O.o Thanks, guys. I'll try to make you all happy, just remember that nearly half of this story is already finished... After that, I'm open to suggestions ;;  
  
As customary to mention: I don't own Tekken or the CIA. I own me. Cheryl owns Cheryl. James Hetfield owns you all. Fear the Spork!  
  
(For you sheltered souls who don't know who he is, do a Lycos search on it!! HA!!!)  
  
If you listen to Metallica and don't know who he is, hold still, I'm coming to your house to beat you over the head with a rubber chicken. I don't own Metallica. Metallica isn't mentioned in the story, just making a point that The Mighty Hetfield rocks. Okay, that's enough of that. O.o  
  
Heihachi Mishima is portrayed as a respectable (albeit evil) man in this story. This is not my personal opinion of him, but for the sake of the story's sincerity, there can be no mass floggings and/or Chinese water torture, as much as I would like to see him die (AND TAKE HIS DAIPER WITH HIM!!!). Right.  
  
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Walking from the gate at Narita, they were greeted by a throng of Paul's adoring fans. He laughed nervously, waving, and pushed through. The others followed.  
  
"I guess I should be grateful," he said aside to Kiley, "I don't have very many fans back home any more." Kiley looked up at him. Paul Phoenix, of all people, showed some humility. With an ego like his, he should have thought everyone loved him. She suddenly found herself respecting him. Just a little bit.  
  
They walked to the baggage claim together, and Kiley and Cheryl found themselves piling their luggage into Paul's arms at his own behest. He easily handled each of their two suitcases along with his own duffel. Marshall grabbed his own suitcase before Paul could and grumbled about his showing off.  
  
"I see your knees shaking already. I hope you'll be able to carry those all the way to the docks for the girls' sakes. Fool." He said.  
  
Paul chuckled and replied "Easily." He didn't mention that there was probably already a limousine waiting for them outside the airport, and he was right. Marshall glared at him sourly. Paul laughed at him again and threw the bags into the car after the girls had been seated. He let Marshall go before him and then hauled himself in. He happily took the seat next to Kiley again, but was unsettled when he saw Heihachi Mishima facing them from a row of seats behind the driver. He immediately thought Heihachi must have suspected that the girls had been sent to conduct an investigation. He looked over at Kiley and saw that she was completely composed, so he forced himself to act naturally.  
  
"Hello again, Heihachi," he said as if they were about to conduct business.  
  
"Good afternoon, Mr. Phoenix. 'Very generous of you to return my company to me after the last tournament, by the way. Also very generous of you to decline the money I offered as payment." Heihachi spoke in a measured manner, and with surprisingly good English, with hardly any accent to account for. Paul shrugged.  
  
"Business isn't my style, and neither is a lot of money. 'Very generous of yourself to offer it, though."  
  
Heihachi imitated Paul's shrug. He turned to Marshall. "Good to see you again, Mr. Law. I was surprised to see your son at the last tournament in place of yourself."  
  
Marshall grunted in acknowledgement and seemed not to pay much attention to anyone the rest of the way. Kiley and Cheryl thought that very odd, considering the way he spoke so freely back at the airport in San Francisco, but they continued to pay close attention to Heihachi, their charge.  
  
"And I don't believe I've met you ladies before. Which of you is Ms. Kiley?"  
  
"I am. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Mishima." Kiley reached across Paul to shake his hand.  
  
"I wish you luck in the tournament, Ms. Kiley. You'll need it against the likes of Paul Phoenix." He nodded to Paul. Again, Paul shrugged.  
  
Kiley began to study Heihachi while he turned to speak to the driver. Jack had been right; he was old, with white hair that had hints of a light, smokey gray streak here and there. Despite his age, probably around 70, it was obvious that he was a martial artist, even in his more recent years. Heihachi had a bushy mustache that bristled almost the whole way from the bottom of his nose right down to his lip. However, it was that grayish- white hair that interested her the most. It branched outward from the sides of his head like white flame as if it were a visible aura of power that he obviously still possessed.  
  
Heihachi's brows were constantly furrowed, shrewd businessman that he was. He looked very stern, like an old shoalin priest. His suit clashed with his conservative outward appearance. It was white and business-like, true to his style, but over that he wore flashy brown leather over coat with white fur trimmings around the neck and the cuffs. He also wore brown gloves that seemed to match the jacket. Next to him was a black cane with a silver head leaning against the seat, but it was more likely kept as a matter of style rather than function. He seemed rather amicable, but Kiley had to remember the evil deeds for which he was suspected.  
  
Kiley's scan of the older man ended when she realized Paul had been staring at her, probably for some time, and Heihachi turned back toward them. She looked at Paul who raised an eyebrow at her.  
  
Heihachi then began to speak again. "We're on the way to the Mishima liner. I'll have to leave you there for an hour or so, but you can explore the ship we'll be sailing on overnight to my island for the tournament. We'll be leaving around 5:00, so you won't have to worry about dinner until after we leave port."  
  
And they did just that. Paul grabbed all of their luggage before Marshall could protest. The girls carried their handbags and didn't mind one bit that Paul was being a gentleman. 


	4. The Devil's Helper

Tekken and CIA aren't mine...God, that's getting old... But the Sporks aren't. Cheryl and Kiley belong to us. Fear the Spork!  
  
Sorry the last chapter ended so abruptly, when I originally wrote this, it didn't have chapters. I'm trying my best to find opportune moments to stop for each installment, and these two parts weren't easy to split up.  
  
Finally, Kazuya Mishima enters the formula...I had a lot of fun doing the illustrations for this part of the story. I'll have them on my new web site as soon as I get it online. Which probably won't be for a while. Oh well.  
  
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The group followed Heihachi's suggestion and boarded the ship. The captain waited at the top of the ramp for them, shook hands with Paul and Marshall, and kissed the hands of the ladies. Cheryl blushed profusely and hid her face from the others until her cheeks stopped burning. They followed the captain to their rooms, where Paul dropped the girls' bags just outside their door and followed the captain to drop off Marshall's and his own. The girls looked at each other, watched Paul disappear around the corner, locked their door, and left. They walked around and discovered that they were not the first to arrive.  
  
Upon walking out to the deck, they instantly heard a string of foul language coming from a redheaded man in a Korean military uniform. He was yelling at a blonde man who looked about the same age, around the girls' age as well.  
  
They decided to go see what was going on. They walked a little bit closer and noticed a richly dressed man with sunglasses and a perfect tan, a bit older than the other two, sitting in a deck chair, listening intently.  
  
"Hey, man, I didn't mean to drop it." The blonde said with a thick British accent.  
  
"I don't give a damn, you're gonna replace it, hear?" was the response.  
  
The dark haired man noticed the approaching women and rose. The redhead jumped, just then realizing he was even there.  
  
"You'd best hold your tongue in the presence of ladies, Hwoarang, since it seems that all you know are oaths," he said. The redhead turned swiftly toward the girls and scratched the back of his head nervously looking at the floor, his face turning nearly as red as his hair. The blonde had the same reaction. The dark man smiled, patted them on the back, and looked at the girls.  
  
"You must pardon my friends here, they're both rather stubborn and hot- blooded. They were having a minor dispute. My name is Violet." He stepped in front of the two younger men and continued, "I don't believe I've met either of you before. Are you new to the tournament like Steve here?" he gestured to the blonde Brit, who waved.  
  
"We haven't even been out of the US in years, much less to any tournament in Japan. I'm Cheryl, and this is my friend Kiley. She'll be entering the tournament, I'm just tagging along." Cheryl shook hands with Violet, deciding that all three of the men standing in front of her were very attractive indeed. Kiley shook his hand as well, giving her friend a look that suggested she knew exactly what she was thinking. Violet led them further out on the deck to where more chairs had been placed. Hwoarang and Steve shrugged at each other and followed. After making sure both women were comfortably seated, Violet seated himself.  
  
Even further down the deck, Kiley noticed a man in a jaguar mask, a blue shirt with fringes in a western US style and white pants. He was hunched over as if in contemplation. Violet followed her gaze.  
  
"Oh, that's King, a wrestler from Mexico. He's entered all the tournaments so far, but most of us think that the man who showed up last time wearing that mask wasn't the real King. I guess that's him again. Anyway, he keeps to himself mostly. Great poker player though." He said smiling. Cheryl could just imagine deep, blue eyes twinkling handsomely to match his wide, friendly smile from behind those sunglasses, but she realized that she had no idea what color his eyes really were.  
  
"They're all so quiet...well, except for the Korean..." Kiley muttered under her breath, looking at Hwoarang. Even Paul had practically been silenced when they met Heihachi in the limousine. She thought about how silent Marshall had been, and now looked toward the wrestler again. They must have reasons for fighting other than just to win, she thought. She could recognize a fighter's contemplation when she saw it. Being a martial artist herself, she had also experienced the same quiet inner conflict of weighing the stakes many times herself. She wondered what they could all be thinking when she realized that Violet had begun telling a little bit about himself. He was Chinese, but he was now living in the Bahamas because of family troubles.  
  
The girls could already see that he was pretty well to do by the way he dressed. His shirt was made of purple silk. The color started out dark at his shoulders, nearly the color of his hair, but it faded to pale lavender gradually towards the bottom. It was open halfway at the front, revealing a well-shaped chest, one of the first things Cheryl noticed, and had frills around the collar and sleeve cuffs. His pants were tight, black leather, also well noted by Cheryl. Kiley saw her giving him a good looking over when he turned to drag Hwoarang and Steve into the conversation. When he turned back around, Cheryl forced herself to tear her gaze off him and looked out to the waters of Tokyo Bay.  
  
"I'm sorry, Hwoarang." Steve said suddenly. Hwoarang paused, but nodded acknowledgement.  
  
"Me too, dude." Still looking at the floor, the two moved closer to the table. Neither actually said anything, but they both listened attentively.  
  
After a few minutes, Violet tensed up and lowered his sunglasses to peer over them at a man across the deck, behind Kiley and Cheryl. Kiley turned around to see who it was and found that the man was walking toward them. She froze.  
  
He was a handsome man, although his face was scarred. He wore sunglasses, and over a purple suit, a trench coat of black leather. His hair was slicked back, and a bit of it formed a spike in the back of his head. It looked almost like a wing to Kiley. Time seemed to slow down along with the beating of her heart. She was afraid for some reason. She could feel that this man was powerful. He was terrifying. He was...  
  
"Kazuya Mishima, I presume!" Violet stood, pretending to be friendly with him. He held out his hand to shake. Kazuya's frown deepened as he looked down distastefully at the hand offered to him. He looked back up at Violet, and then turned to the four sitting at the table. He nodded to Kiley.  
  
"Good luck." He tipped his sunglasses to her and walked off. Kiley felt Cheryl touch her arm, and she jumped. She had almost been shivering the whole time he had his eyes on her. Something about Kazuya Mishima... Violet also looked very solemn when he sat back down.  
  
"That was Kazuya. Heihachi Mishima's son. A truly evil man if one ever was." He sighed.  
  
"Kazuya or Heihachi?" Cheryl asked, guessing that he could mean either one by her own initial impression of each.  
  
"No, not Heihachi. He is sinister, diabolical even, and everyone here hates him, but he's just a typical business leader. Aren't they all like that? But Kazuya is in argument the devil himself. That's really the only explanation. It's said that he transformed into a demon in the first tournaments. But it gets worse-" he leaned forward.  
  
"Isn't he Jin Kazama's father?" Hwoarang interrupted, watching Kazuya look out toward the sea from the deck across from them. His trench coat was flapping in the sea wind as he stood by the rail, and they watched as he removed his sunglasses and continued to watch the water underneath.  
  
"Yes, he is, but as I was saying... I'm not quite sure how to say this, and less sure of how to explain it, but... twenty years ago..." Violet leaned a bit closer again, fearing Kazuya would hear them talking about him, "I know for a fact that he died. Heihachi threw him into the mouth of an erupting volcano."  
  
Cheryl clasped her hand tight over her mouth to stifle a cry of exasperation.  
  
"Why would Heihachi do that?"  
  
"The entire family is in some kind of war, they've all got real problems with each other." Violet shrugged, relaxing a bit.  
  
"He rose from the dead..." Kiley began to understand what she had felt from Kazuya. She shuddered quietly. She looked up to see Paul and Marshall casually making their way over. Paul waved, and then halted when he saw the mood of the five at the table. They hastened and stood behind Cheryl and Kiley.  
  
"What's up?" Paul asked, watching Violet's stare, following it to Kazuya. He nearly fell over. "What is he doing here?!" he demanded to know. Kiley turned to face him, watching his expression.  
  
"Kazuya is here for the same reason we're all here; to compete in the tournament." Violet said non-chalantly. Paul's expression changed several times while he watched Kazuya. One moment it was anger, then fear, then... excitement?  
  
Paul saw much the same thing the others did. But Kazuya sensed that he was being watched. He turned, his sunglasses still off. Paul recoiled when he saw Kazuya's eyes. Kazuya turned to his right, which meant Paul saw his normal, brown eye first. But then he turned all the way around. Kazuya's left eye was bright red, and it seemed to glow with an inner fire. It even seemed to get brighter when he shot Paul a nasty glare. Paul also noted the scars etched into his face. Paul nearly choked at the sight.  
  
"Kazuya Mishima..." he said quietly, "what happened to you?" Paul watched him walk below decks. Hwoarang followed him with his eye as well. He was rather curious about his archrival's father.  
  
Kiley and Cheryl exchanged glances. Heihachi had murdered, or at least attempted to murder his son. That was enough to put him in jail, but they still had to prove the things for which he was suspected. It was their job. Marshall cleared his throat.  
  
"So, we were wondering if you girls wanted to come explore the ship with us," he said cheerfully.  
  
"Yeah, come on girls, come with us!" Paul smiled down at them, placing his frustration at seeing Kazuya alive aside for the moment, pulling his two friends out of their seats. They stood and began following him.  
  
"Might I protest that you are stealing my company, boys?" Violet asked, annoyed.  
  
"We saw 'em first, rich boy. Besides, you've got those two!" Paul called over his shoulder, leading the two laughing girls off with Marshall. Violet leaned backward and 'hmph'ed.  
  
"Uh... What's goin' on?" Steve scratched the back of his neck. Violet reached back and smacked him. 


	5. Departure and Dinner

I don't own Tekken. Ditto on the CIA. I own myself. Cheryl owns herself. Fear the Spork!!  
  
This part and the two after it were written to fill up space before the tournament and to let us get to know the characters a bit better. Don't hurt me if you think it sucks. They were written hastily, but I tried my best to put events together in a good effect. They turned out decent, anyway. Have fun.  
  
VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV  
  
"Who is Kazuya Mishima?" Kiley stopped in front of Paul, making him halt quickly. He stared at her for a moment, and then went to lean over a rail at the end of the deck. Kiley followed him, anxious to hear what he had to say. Cheryl and Marshall stayed back and watched them speak.  
  
"Kazuya was my oldest rival . . ." Paul began. "When he died, I stopped fighting for a time because without Kazuya, and my hatred for him, I found no more purpose in it all. But soon after I realized that for someone as mighty as Kazuya, it would be an insult to cease altogether just on his account. It was hard, but I regained my fighting spirit, and I became even more powerful then ever. I entered the third tournament just for him." He turned toward her. "Though my hatred for him was great, I also had a great deal of respect for Kazuya Mishima."  
  
"I see." Kiley leaned over the rail as well and thought for a moment. "You won the tournament for him too, didn't you?" she said finally.  
  
"To a certain extent. I thanked him for making me push myself to defeat him every time I won a match. It's because of him that I've come so far . . ." Paul looked off to the side and started tugging Kiley's arm. "Come on," he said, "there's someone I want you to meet."  
  
Marshall and Cheryl followed the two again toward a tall man with long, black hair who was wearing a white shirt and brown colored pants with assorted law enforcement equipment strapped to his belt. Kiley noticed a gun holster, but it was empty. Most likely its contents had been left behind to minimize complication. The man noticed them coming his way and smiled, waving to Paul.  
  
"Girls, this is an old buddy of mine, Lei Wulong. He's with the Hong Kong Police Department."  
  
"How's it going?" Lei said with a heavy Chinese accent. He shook hands with both girls, grinning the whole while.  
  
"This is the man that's going to help us!"  
  
"Help you do what . . .?" Lei's eyebrows rose suspiciously at Paul's comment. Paul explained to him the situation. Lei looked skeptical, but he agreed to do what he could.  
  
"Lei is an expert when it comes to covert operations." Paul said, patting his friend's back. Lei grinned wide again, but he blushed, giving his tanned cheeks a red hue. Lei was a boastful man by nature, but he wasn't used to having others do the boasting for him.  
  
"Lei, my man, what brings you to the 4th King of Iron Fist tournament?" Paul turned the conversation to him.  
  
"Mostly, I'm on a job. There's a young boxer here I'm supposed to protect. The mafia is after him; they hired an assassin to kill him, and I'm supposed to find out who that is, stop them before it's too late, and bring them into custody."  
  
Paul blinked. "Wow. I just joined to win," he said. Lei grinned wide again and laughed. Cheryl, Kiley, and Marshall gave each other looks and moved closer to talk to Lei.  
  
"Hong Kong jurisdiction? 'Sounds busy." Kiley said to him.  
  
"Actually, it's Hong Kong and the surrounding districts, but it's not so bad. China is mostly a peaceful place." Lei paused. "You're in the CIA. Sounds busy." He turned back on her.  
  
"Mostly desk jobs for us. It's not so bad." Cheryl replied.  
  
"Marshall Law! How are you?" Lei stepped toward him. "I have not seen you since the second tournament! What have you been doing?"  
  
"I own a Chinese restaurant." Marshall grumbled. Lei looked sympathetic for a moment, but chuckled again. "It's not so bad." Marshall added. Lei laughed aloud again at that and gave him a swift slap on the back. Marshall nearly fell over with the force.  
  
Just then, one of the smoke stacks bellowed and the group felt the ship's engine turning. Cheryl looked over to the West and saw the city of Tokyo slowly moving away from them. Lei looked at his watch.  
  
"They are late. It's almost 5:30." He said. Kiley thought his accent was adorable.  
  
"Heihachi must have returned late." Marshall mused.  
  
"Who cares? It's almost dinner time!" Paul grinned. Kiley smiled at the remark, but she couldn't help but wonder why Heihachi had been late. Her brows furrowed. Paul looked down at her and his expression turned sour as well. He touched her shoulder and motioned to follow Lei toward the deck where they supposed Heihachi had just boarded. Cheryl and Marshall followed behind them again, chattering about San Francisco.  
  
Eventually they met up with the captain again, who told them Heihachi had already gone to his cabin to prepare for dinner. He also said it would be another hour before dinner was to be served.  
  
"Only an hour?" Cheryl looked at Kiley.  
  
"We'd better go." Kiley said to their companions. So the girls said goodbye and went to prepare for dinner. As soon as they got to their cabin, they threw their deck clothes to the floor and ran to the closet to fetch their evening gowns. They were both made of black velvet and were almost exactly alike, except that Kiley's flowed from the back a bit more, and Cheryl's had elbow-length gloves.  
  
Helping each other zip up took at least five minutes. Zippers were not either girl's favorite thing in the world. Neither was make-up. Half an hour was spent applying make-up, and then another 10 minutes was taken to fix each other's faces so they didn't look like fools. Apparently, the end result was worthy of a social outing. They were well received by the men in the dining hall, catching the eye of quite a few of them. Paul and Lei were by the door in tuxedos, waiting for them. Paul's hair was pulled back into a ponytail like Lei's, but long strands hung down, framing his face. Cheryl thought he looked rather charming that way, and looked to Kiley for confirmation. She didn't have to ask whether she agreed or not. Kiley stared at him, flushed. Apparently, she thought it not only charming, but also attractive. It was a nice change from the grunge look his hair gave him when it was entirely down.  
  
"Might we escort you ladies to your seats?" Paul grinned, offering Kiley his arm. She smiled at him and took it gracefully.  
  
"Why, thank you, sir!" she replied pleasantly and began walking. Lei got booted in the shin to remind him to offer Cheryl his arm. Lei responded a bit too quickly and half dragged Cheryl over to the long table where they would be dining. Paul rolled his eyes and pulled Kiley's chair out for her. She sat down as Paul pushed it back towards the table and looked to Cheryl when she sat beside her. Lei sat on the other side of Cheryl, then Marshall, who had shown up right at that moment, and Paul sat on Kiley's left, right next to the head of the table where Heihachi would sit in just a few moments. Across from Paul sat Kuma, a well-trained Grizzly whom Heihachi kept as a pet. Why it was allowed at the table escaped Kiley.  
  
The seat across from Kiley was left empty for the moment. Across from Cheryl sat a man named Bryan Fury. Paul leaned over and told Kiley that he was an android created by Dr. Abel, one of Heihachi's mad scientists, and it was understood that he and Lei didn't get along well. Across from Lei was Yoshimitsu, a manji clan space pirate who also had issues with Bryan. Even at the table, he wore armor that resembled a cockroach's shell and a skull-like mask, which he never removed. The same could be said of King, who sat next to him, still wearing his leopard mask. Next to Marshall sat Craig Marduk, a vale tudo champion from Central America. He never looked directly at the man across from him in the mask. On down the table, places were filled with martial artists wearing formal dinner attire who mumbled amongst themselves. Cheryl and Kiley were watching the people around them. They saw Violet, Steve, and Hwoarang at the other end of the table and waved to them. Across from the Korean sat a young man who looked remarkably like Kazuya. They knew it was Jin Kazama, Kazuya's son, whom Hwoarang had mentioned before. Next to Jin sat a younger Asian girl who was staring in awe at the setting of the dining room. Next to her, Kiley noticed a Giant Panda. The young girl spoke to the Panda often, and the animal seemed to respond in a way that the girl understood.  
  
The room suddenly went quiet. The girls looked to the double doors leading out of the room and saw Kazuya there. Again, Kiley's heart stopped in her fright. She nearly panicked when she noticed that the only empty seat in the room aside from Heihachi's was the one across from her. Her breath returned to her when she felt both Paul and Cheryl's hand on each shoulder. Both of her friends, concerned for her when they noticed that she had become stiff, instinctively had touched her shoulders to bring her back to the world. She smiled rigidly and shrugged their hands off and tried not to look directly at Kazuya's eyes. The entire room had an unnerving sensation to it, but people began speaking again nonetheless, which made Kiley relax a bit.  
  
"Hello, Kazuya." Paul grumbled as he watched him sit down. Kazuya had not bothered to change out of what he had been wearing earlier. His suit was formal enough, and the trench coat was a nice touch. He had, however, had the sense to leave his sunglasses in his cabin.  
  
"Hello, Mr. Phoenix." Kazuya said to him, looking at Kiley and Cheryl. Unlike his father, Kazuya had somewhat of an accent. Not heavy, but very smooth, and almost attractive in itself. That was another thing that frightened Kiley. He was suave. In Kiley's experience, that automatically meant trouble.  
  
"How've you been?" Paul asked, watching Kazuya watch Kiley avoid eye contact with him. This annoyed him, so he put his arm around Kiley defensively. It worked well, because Kazuya detached his gaze from her, assuming that the two were together. Paul heard Kiley release a heavy breath and he looked over at Cheryl who had also noticed. Cheryl then pretended to be interested in a conversation Marshall and Lei were having. It didn't help that they were speaking Chinese. Nevertheless, she pretended to listen to them while actually surveying Kazuya's demeanor. How would he know she didn't speak Chinese? She felt sorry for Kiley, who was trapped between the two men that hated each other so much.  
  
"I've been well, Paul." Kazuya replied after readjusting himself in his chair. "Just . . . doing some work for G Corporation." Paul took his arm from around Kiley's shoulders and leaned forward a bit, watching Kuma with one eye. Paul and Kuma also had a history. Kuma had been trained to assassinate Paul by Heihachi since before the first tournament. This Kuma, however, was a replacement. The original had died, living a rather long life for a grizzly bear nonetheless. Paul still felt the need to watch the bear he had fought with in the third tournament. This Kuma was stronger than its predecessor.  
  
"What kind of work? I heard G Corporation's management was into cloning and crap like that. You doing that?"  
  
Kazuya's eyebrow immediately rose. "Not exactly, but I suppose it's something of the sort. More like gene research." Kazuya began to chuckle, but the others could not discern what he found so amusing.  
  
Suddenly, Kazuya grabbed Paul's suit jacket and pulled him halfway across the table towards him. Kiley felt her heart stop beating for several seconds while the two men glared at each other, her gaze fixed on their faces. Paul had a grave expression on his face, one like Kiley had never seen in her life, and she thought they were going to kill each other right there at dinner. A moment passed before either of them spoke. They were too busy staring each other down.  
  
"I know it was my father who sent that advertisement for the tournament, and I know it's because he wants to kill me himself. I have no respect for Heihachi, nor do I have any intention of underestimating his power. Phoenix, if you get in my way, I will kill you!" he spoke in a hoarse tone through clenched teeth, but Paul didn't flinch. Kiley was still scared out of her mind, remaining immobile until Kazuya finally released Paul's collar. No one else seemed to have noticed, but it did seem quieter again. Kiley felt Kazuya watching her again and turned to Cheryl.  
  
In Kazuya's mind, knowing Paul as well as he did, he thought of all the ways he could have gotten a girl like that. He almost instantly came up with the answer; 'he couldn't!' and chuckled to himself again. He had been deceived, and it almost worked. He looked at the other girl, whose name he wasn't quite sure of, and decided that she was also intriguing. Attractive, even. He broke his icy stare and looked behind him to see Heihachi coming. He scoffed and turned back around. Kuma licked his hair, and he shoved the bear over toward Heihachi's seat, which brought a groan from the beast. Heihachi patted Kuma's neck and sat in his seat.  
  
His presence was noted by all, and a grim smile spread across Heihachi's chiseled feature's as once again, the room went silent. He chuckled as he took in the many acidic stares given to him by nearly everyone at the table. He knew very well that each and every one of them wanted him dead. Heihachi was disappointed when his gaze reached Kazuya, who sat there looking bored and indifferent. He was furious and thought that if Kazuya hated him more than anyone there, he could at least show it. He appeared very calm outwardly though, and cleared his throat. He rose from his seat.  
  
"Good evening, friends. I'm glad you all could make it to my little competition. I'm also glad to see some new faces, as well as the familiar ones. I won't bother you with rules and regulations at this time; all I wish to say now is," he lifted his glass, "welcome." He tipped his glass in a toast and drank, then sat back down. Servants began bringing in plates of salads and soups.  
  
Neither Kiley nor Cheryl felt very hungry, but they ate anyway. They were both made even sicker by watching Kuma rip into the raw salmon that had been specially prepared for him. They glanced at each other and took smaller sips and bites and decided to deal with their queasiness by biting the bullet and being good guests. Kiley looked down the table at the Panda and watched her munch her bamboo, which seemed to be roasted and marinated in something. She looked back at Kuma, which was a mistake. The bear's jowls were dripping with fish guts and saliva, and just when she thought it couldn't get any more disgusting then that, Kuma began drinking water out of a silver dish in front of him, dribbling its contents everywhere. To keep herself from hurling, she allowed herself to shudder visibly and decided to give eating a rest for the moment. Paul and Kazuya both noticed her discomfort.  
  
"Really, father, must you keep this-this animal of yours at the diner table?" Kazuya said, smacking Kuma's arm with the back of his hand. The bear groaned again and looked to Heihachi for defense.  
  
"Kuma? Of course! He's part of the family, Kazuya, get used to it! Whoever heard of making a brother eat away from the rest of the family? Preposterous!" Heihachi scolded, then stroked Kuma's massive paw. Kazuya snorted, then resumed ignoring both of them. Kiley laughed softly at Heihachi's pampering of Kuma. Afterall, it wasn't the bear she minded, it was his table manners.  
  
She looked briefly at Kazuya, who was trying to keep Kuma out of his hair again, and wondered what his interest was in her. The way he greeted her on the deck, then the ceaseless staring, and then . . . what? Had he come to her rescue, or had he merely been expressing his own disgust with Kuma's eating habits? It all made her wonder.  
  
Kiley's dreaming ceased when suddenly Lei and Marshall began a heated argument again in some indecipherable dialect of Chinese. She figured that what little she knew of Mandarin (if, indeed, it was Mandarin) would not help her discover what the rowl was all about they were speaking so rapidly. Paul seemed to know what they were saying, but when Kiley asked him, he chuckled and replied, "You don't want to know." She sat back, frustrated, and was practically pushed into Paul's lap by Cheryl, who screamed and tried to jump backward, tripping over her chair when both men stood, knocking their chairs backward and using wild gestures to accentuate their arguments, whatever they were.  
  
Marshall looked down at Cheryl and said something to Lei, which was probably something to the effect of "Now look what you did." Lei had been about to help her stand back up, but stood to protest Marshall's statement. Instead, Cheryl ended up helping herself back into her seat and Kiley stood and smacked both of the men on the back of the head. She scolded them a bit, then sat back down to an awkward silence and felt everyone staring at her. Simultaneously, both men replied "Sorry" and bowed their heads. After a few chuckles, the previous atmosphere resumed.  
  
"Are you alright?" Kiley asked her friend, who was smoothing her dress.  
  
"I'll be okay." She leaned in closer to Kiley and whispered, "Isn't Lei adorable? With his cute accent and ponytail? I mean, he's kind of good- looking himself, as well."  
  
Kiley blinked and replied, "And also over 40. A bit old for you, deary. Cute, but old." Cheryl pouted.  
  
"Well, it looks like that's the best we're going to do here, now, doesn't it?" Kiley laughed at her lightly and began to eat again.  
  
"Good to see you finally eating, my dear." Heihachi said to her over a spoonful of miso soup.  
  
"I'm just a bit anxious. This really is my first tournament. I'll get over it." She said pleasantly and took another bite of her salad.  
  
"Let's hope so." He smiled in return and looked to Paul, who was fiddling with his food, annoyed at being left out for so long. Finding nothing more to talk about than their recent endeavors and accomplishments, being enemies, they left their chat at a brief few exchanges. Paul went back to fidgeting and Heihachi turned his attention back to his pet.  
  
Kiley watched the two of them and then noticed Kazuya staring at her again, yet not so openly this time. His head was bowed as he ate, but his eyes were on her. Her brows creased as she looked at him, becoming more daring after noting his behavior concerning her disgust with Kuma. Kazuya paused, stopped eating, settled back into his chair, and stared right back. Actually, it was more of a dark glare.  
  
It took a moment before either of them realized they were both being stared at by Heihachi, Paul, Cheryl, and Lei. Kiley's face flushed, and she went back to eating. Kazuya snorted and continued to relax in his chair. Kuma turned and licked his face, leaving a trail of saliva and fish entrails across his cheek. Kazuya gave a loud exclamation of disgust while pushing his chair to the ground behind him violently and cursed. Paul began laughing hysterically, and Kazuya threw his handkerchief at him when he was done cleaning himself. Being whacked in the face with it, Paul slammed his palms down on the table, making the whole section shake, and stood. They glared acid at one another until Heihachi told them to sit down and be polite to the others.  
  
Kiley helped Paul wipe off his face while Kazuya sat and scowled some more. He watched them a moment and snorted. Cheryl looked at him and instantly thought 'jealousy'. Cheryl looked at her friend then and wondered if she knew what was happening. It was pretty obvious, but Kiley was known well in the agency for being a true airhead. She was blonde, afterall. Cheryl was perceptive enough to notice that Paul was wondering the same thing she was. She also knew that Paul also had a 'thing' for her friend. He just wasn't being creepy about it.  
  
Kazuya sat sideways in his chair facing the furthest end of the table. He continued to occasionally scoff through the entire meal. He didn't make eye contact with anyone else afterward.  
  
Servants began to bring in the main course soon after the altercation between Kazuya and Paul.  
  
"What, more food?" Cheryl said to Kiley. "Those salads were huge! No banquet at Headquarters was ever this big."  
  
"I know. But the whole agency also doesn't have half as much money as Heihachi himself, and he's feeding about two hundred less people than a CIA banquet would." Kiley replied quietly.  
  
"True . . ." she nodded in response.  
  
"So, girls," Heihachi began again, "I'm curious. How much does your Agency pay you?"  
  
"About enough to pay for rent and groceries. That's it." Kiley said.  
  
"That's why we share an apartment. We both can now afford the finer things in life." Cheryl smiled.  
  
"Like eating at Denny's once a month." Kiley snorted to herself, but the others could hear her. Heihachi chuckled at them.  
  
"Pretty much," Cheryl admitted, sighing, "right now, we're still saving up for some new windows. Some punk kids tried to break in one night. We showed 'em what-for!" Cheryl raised a fist in the air.  
  
"Although, our apartment is pretty big." Kiley said, "But we really need a lot of space for all of our equipment. Which we also had to pay for." Heihachi stared with his mouth agape for a moment.  
  
"I thought your government paid people in your field well!"  
  
"Heh. The field. It would help if we were actually out on one once in a while. We used to go out once a month or so on drug busts and the like. Now, we're just desk workers. I think that's Jack's fault." Kiley finished, aside to Cheryl.  
  
"We should ask about that when we get back."  
  
"I concur."  
  
"You know, it would be great if you came to work for me." Heihachi said to them, "You would be paid well, and your home would be provided by the company. I could use a few more good field agents." Paul and Kazuya both looked up at him, then at the girls, alarmed. Cheryl stared right back at Kazuya dangerously. Why was it any of his business?  
  
"Thank you, Heihachi, but we're under a job contract. We can't leave just yet." Kiley said smiling. Both flustered men sighed quietly then and went back to eating.  
  
Heihachi looked at his watch. "Oh dear," he said, "we're running late." Everyone looked up at him. "You'll have to excuse me, I must observe the final preparations for the ball." Heihachi bowed and walked off through the double doors. 


	6. The Devil's Philosophy

I don't own Tekken, the CIA, or anything else but this story and li'l ol me. Cheryl owns herself. Fear the Spork!!  
  
I'm BEGGING anyone that reads this to review!! If you don't, I don't know whether you like it or I'm just updating this one for no reason at all!  
  
Oh, by the way, the only reason the first five chapters were posted in such rapid succession is because I had nothing better to do all that week. From now on, probably for quite a few months, there won't be that many updates, but please stick with me if you like what's here so far, I promise you won't be disappointed. VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV  
  
"Ball?" Cheryl asked Kiley, dazed. "Where does he get all of this money?!"  
  
Kiley shrugged. "I never heard anything about any ball, so don't look at me. And the money issue is part of the reason we're here, so be patient."  
  
"You can dance with me if you want, Kiley!" Paul grinned, oblivious to their side conversation.  
  
"Thanks, Paul, but neither of us have danced in years," she grumbled in response, turning forward in her seat again. Paul smiled and put his arm around her shoulder once again.  
  
"That's okay, neither have I. In fact, I've only been to one dance before. I'm not so sure I remember how." He laughed heartily, making Kiley smile. Kazuya watched them for a moment with a raised eyebrow. He sneered at Paul and stood.  
  
"Foolishness! A ball! What utter idiocy..." his voice trailed off as he mumbled about his father's expenditures, and he stormed out of the room in a huff. Everyone watched him go, flustered by his outburst. Kiley's eyes remained on the violently shaking doors as they shut behind him. What had made him lose his composure just then?  
  
"Hey, Paul, I think he's just a bit jealous," she heard Cheryl snickering from beside her.  
  
"You think so?" Paul chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "He did seem kind of irritable when I had my arm around Kiley. Heh-heh..."  
  
Kiley looked over at him, annoyed. Suddenly, as if she had just noticed it, her hand flew up to Paul's on her shoulder and held it in a death grip. Paul stopped laughing and started fighting to win his appendage back. Kiley spoke then rather coldly. "I only let you touch me because it made him stop looking at me. For a while, at least," and then, more quietly, allowing Paul to take his arm back, "he frightens me with that weird stare he's giving me all the time, and the red eye doesn't help my nerve at all. I hope I don't have to see him too often..." she shivered, staring at the door again. Paul looked at the door gravely as well.  
  
"You're fighting in the tournament, Kiley. Of course you'll see him again. You may even have to fight him. I just hope he doesn't overestimate your strength, or he could possibly kill you. Then again," he began to smile darkly, "I hope he hasn't lost any of his strength. I want to beat him at his finest."  
  
"I don't think you have to worry about that," Kiley shifted uncomfortably while she spoke, "he's so powerful he just seems evil. I'm sure he would never allow himself to get weaker. And I think you're insane for wanting to fight that man."  
  
"With hand strength like yours, I don't think you need to worry about him either, Kiley," Paul said, only half joking, "and as quick as you were just now, I think if you hit him in the neck once, he'd be out for a week." Paul laughed nervously now, massaging his hand.  
  
"I doubt it. Kazuya outclasses me by too far for me to take down with even a few quick hits. I'm convinced he's got some awesome skills too, just by looking at him. I haven't been training my entire life like he has, I'm sure." Kiley turned her gaze back to her food, which she picked at indifferently. Already, she had met three contestants that she knew, the instant she saw them, could take her down within a matter of seconds. The only thing she had left going for her was that Paul, Kazuya, and Heihachi weren't aware of how utterly inferior she felt at the moment. She even had the same suspicion about Lei and Marshall, but couldn't tell right away like with the others. Sitting in the dining hall with the complete roster of contestants, now save Heihachi and Kazuya, she couldn't tell a thing, and looking back at Kuma, she realized she had absolutely no idea how she was going to be able to defeat a full-grown grizzly bear. She decided to wait it out and be happy that the agency wasn't requiring her to win.  
  
"Huh," Paul snubbed his nose in the other direction after a moment, "sounds to me almost like you've got a crush on him or something." He looked back at her and grinned impishly. Kiley wasn't amused, and her face flushed with anger. In a sudden fit, she stood and forcefully smashed Paul's head into the plate he swiftly realized, thankfully, was already bare, and walked off, heatedly muttering to herself.  
  
After the pause of watching her march away, Paul, Cheryl, and Marshall exhaled again, and Lei whistled, eyebrows raised. Troubled, they eyed each other, and Marshall was the first to speak.  
  
"She's going to run into him somewhere out there, whether she means to or not."  
  
"Yup." Cheryl watched the still swinging doors with an absent expression.  
  
With nothing to look down at on his plate, having already eaten everything, Paul turned away from the others to hide his own jealousy.  
  
VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV  
  
Kiley stood on the upper deck of the liner, mulling over what an idiot Paul was. She realized that he was joking, but it was still such an outrageous statement that it had driven her away from them all, disgusted. Kazuya was twice her age, anyway. As a matter of fact, so was Paul, she realized. She decided to keep that in mind for the next time he tried to put the moves on her.  
  
Dusk was ending, and the dark, blue-purple sky was now full of bright, twinkling stars. The clear, cold Tokyo Bay air was perfect for simply gazing up at them, as if one didn't have a care in the world. Truly, Kiley hadn't; before she had been sent on this trip for the tournament, that is. She would hassle Jack for a bonus later.  
  
She leaned far over the rail and rested her chin on her crossed arms, watching the water. She loved the sea.  
  
Suddenly, she heard the sound of faint footsteps behind her, and defensively she whirled around and stood up straight. It was Kazuya Mishima, wearing an amused expression. One of his eyebrows arched high above the other, as if he saw something that entertained him. He was looking at her.  
  
Defiantly, she stared back at him with her brows creased with enmity, awaiting some kind of explanation for this intrusion. For a long moment, she received none. Kiley looked away briefly, back toward the dining hall, and he walked toward her again. Her body tensed, as if she expected him to try and kill her, but she stood motionless.  
  
Instead of attacking her, Kazuya leaned on the rail next to her, again staring toward the water on the horizon. His smirk became wider as he looked sidelong at her from the corner of his eye. She turned back to the water, again perturbed by his presence, but this time, she didn't freeze. He had stared at her often during this day, and she was becoming used to it already, as if he had been there her whole life, watching her.  
  
"'I am no fighter,'" he said sarcastically, his accent thicker than she had heard it before, probably because he was more relaxed, "that is what you say to yourself, here, among many who foolishly believe the same thing. You believe the fact that you're a martial artist and that you actually have something to fight for has nothing to do with the matter. You're all fools." Kiley still stood straight, watching him anxiously, remembering how quickly he had gotten hold of Paul at dinner. But at present there wasn't a table in his way. "I'm not going to mug you, woman, calm down." he said rather harshly after another pause, realizing why her breathing had slowed.  
  
"That doesn't mean I have to trust you."  
  
Kazuya shrugged, grinning coolly. The woman's eyes narrowed, but after a beat, she decided to return to leaning on the handrail, looking away from Kazuya as if he wasn't even there. She heard him shift his weight off of one foot and onto the other, which startled her, but he didn't move any closer to her, and so she relaxed again.  
  
"Are you going to judge me by the things Paul Phoenix has surely told you?" he continued, his grin settling back into the interested smirk that she had seen before. Again, he wasn't looking directly at her. He wasn't even watching her, but he could see her at the apex of his vision. He could see that she wasn't going to respond. His grin faltered, almost expecting a snide remark from the woman, but remained unconcerned. He could do without a challenge for the moment. He knew she would retaliate again any minute. She did amuse him so; he knew she would.  
  
"You were saying? About my being a fool?" she said plaintively, which shocked Kazuya. He turned his head toward her, watching the apathetic look on her face remain stagnant. She really wasn't going to fight his callousness. He then recognized she was merely too engrossed by the ocean to respond harshly.  
  
"Right," he said, still watching her, and after another breath, "it's not just you. It's everyone here. With the exception of my father and myself, that is."  
  
"And what makes you so different?" she faced him again, to his surprise. He noticed an insolent glint in her eye again, which relieved him. He was right about her afterall. She wouldn't put up with his arrogance, and he liked that. It was the same reason he enjoyed his rivalry with Paul. Even though the two had been evenly matched most of their lives, Paul would never stand for Kazuya's ego. However, the fact that Paul had an even bigger ego than his own made it less fun.  
  
"The difference is," Kazuya stopped to chuckle, then rose to lean on one elbow and look at her more directly, "my father and I know exactly what we are. We are driven by the need to fight, and we are aware of that fact. We know we are the strong who oppress the weak with our power. You may not know what that's like, because you don't own a monopolistic corporation, but even so, if you fight in this tournament, you are displaying your power to the world, telling it that you are strong, and that you have the right to dominate it. It's not a large event, but there are many spectators. Even your friend Cheryl will come to realize what you do not."  
  
Kiley listened, and almost laughed at how he missed entirely that she hadn't entered by choice. She continued to face him. They smiled at each other.  
  
"That's right," her smile spread as she thought to go along with his philosophy, "I'm a tyrant."


	7. The Devil's Intent

I don't own Tekken or its characters. I don't own the CIA. I own me (and this story). Cheryl owns Cheryl.  
  
FEAR THE SPORK!!!  
  
(I should really write a song -.-) pulls out her trusty Odin Caesar and strums a riff  
  
Oh, yes-someone e-mailed me asking about the pronunciation of my name, and some of you others might have been wondering as well. That, and I deleted the e-mail by mistake. Whoops. (I'm sorry.) It's not 'Kelly'. It's 'ky-lee'. Kiley. Yes, that's my real name.  
  
Okay, the story picks up momentum as we come closer and closer to the tournament!! Aside from the reasons given in the game, Marshall has another reason to join the tournament. Find out why he's so moody when he thinks about his son Forrest! Enjoy!

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"I'm worried about her, Paul." Marshall said as the group sat at a table in the massive ballroom. If it weren't for the tables, most of which were filled with even more food after the more-than-filling dinner, the room would have been nearly empty. There were hardly a few dozen people on board, including the servants and crew. Apparently, Heihachi used the ship for more than just the tournament.  
  
"So go look for her." Paul shrugged. He had been hiding his irritation fairly well, but everyone knew how he felt regardless.  
  
Heihachi's orchestra was playing a waltz, and several of the contestants were on the dance floor in their best attire. One couple in particular kept Cheryl's attention as they fumbled, trying to learn to dance with the others. Jin Kazama and Ling Xiaoyu certainly made an odd pair. She watched Violet and Steve Fox walk over to help them, with Hwoarang laughing from the side. When Violet couldn't stop Ling from stepping on Jin's pant leg and watched him tumble over, he noticed Cheryl watching and shrugged at her with a good-humored chuckle. He looked odd with his dark sunglasses on inside the room, but Cheryl supposed he had his reasons. She smiled at him and turned back to her other friends.  
  
"Kiley will be alright, Marshall," she said from a seat at Marshall's left, coming back into the conversation, "she can take care of herself." She placed her hand on his, hoping to calm his fears.  
  
"But it appears that Kazuya is the only other person not here," Lei fidgeted with his bowtie, "I also fear for Kiley's safety. We don't know what foolish thing she might do if he confronts her."  
  
"Are you calling my friend a fool, Lei?" Cheryl stood angrily, gaping in disbelief.  
  
"Well, no," he held his hands up defensively, looking around at the several other fighters staring at them, "but you've got to admit, she does seem just a bit brash." Cheryl looked crossly at him; after staring for a moment, agitated, she decided he was right, sighed helplessly, and sat back down, chin in palm.  
  
"I know that. I'm worried too, actually. Not so much about that Casaba guy, but if she's all by herself in our cabin, she might get lonely." She sighed again and rested her cheek on the table, utterly depressed.  
  
"'Casaba'...?" Lei and Marshall gawked.  
  
"Hey, you just said yourself that she could take care of herself." Paul leaned forward, suddenly not so sure of that himself. His face was suddenly a visage of concern, wondering if he should have gone after her himself when she had first left. Before, he hadn't even thought that Kazuya would actually seek her out, but now he was certain of it. Without waiting for Cheryl to respond, he rose and left the table, heading for the doors to the deck.  
  
The others watched him go, wondering what he might do if he found Kazuya. They didn't have to wonder for too much longer.  
  
Just as Paul reached the large double doors, the attendants at the other side opened them. In stepped Kazuya and Kiley, arm in arm, laughing at something Kazuya had just said. They noticed him and stopped. Paul blinked a few times before what he was seeing actually registered.  
  
"Good evening, again, Phoenix." Kazuya smirked. Kiley's eyebrow rose slightly, waiting for Paul to stop staring at her and respond. Paul saw she was irritated and looked at Kazuya instead.  
  
"Hello again. Having fun, Kazuya?" Paul stood more firmly now that he had overcome his shock and crossed his arms over his chest. He was calmer, but made certain Kazuya knew how angry he was. Kazuya merely smirked all the more deviously.  
  
"Why, yes. My companion here is not only blessed with grace and beauty, but also with a wit that never fails. We've been enjoying an enlightening conversation out on deck."  
  
"Kazuya is quite charming as well, Paul. Really, we should all chat some time." Kiley smiled at the larger man with more than a little ire. Paul figured that she could be a dangerous woman when she was angry, but was willing to take on a little challenge, if only he could get her to look agreeably upon him again.  
  
Paul was about to say something to her when Kazuya tugged lightly at her arm, and they walked away to sit at an empty table at the far end of the ballroom. Not understanding quite what he had done, he watched morosely for a moment as Kazuya pulled out a chair for Kiley and sat across from her. They had already begun laughing again when he felt Cheryl's hand softly touching one of his arms. He looked at her and turned toward the table where Marshall and Lei were waiting for them.  
  
Cheryl could see that he was confused, if a bit hurt, and led him back. She couldn't help but feel that he deserved his punishment, but she also knew that by the morning, Kiley would act as if none of this had ever happened. She just needed a bit of time to simmer.  
  
Before he sat back down, Paul had to resist the urge to look back at Kazuya with an acrid glare, but he plopped down heavily with a great sigh, and looked down expressionlessly at the table instead. For a moment Marshall wondered if he was even completely there before Paul suddenly lifted his head with a huge grin.  
  
The others merely stared at him for a moment, wondering what could possibly be going through his head. Cheryl couldn't have known it, but Marshall and Lei, knowing Paul better than anyone, recognized that it was his way of covering his melancholy. The two looked concernedly at each other, then over at Kiley. Marshall's head tilted in pity, and Lei's nearly hit the table when he realized what was happening.  
  
They knew for certain that Paul was in agony, but Kiley didn't seem to be thinking about it at all. On the other hand, through her smiles and laughter with Kazuya, they could see that she was still angry. Lei watched them for a moment then looked back at Paul. Though he was still smiling, his eyes showed Lei just about the most pathetic state the man had ever been in for as long as he had known him. It hurt just to watch him.  
  
Lei heard Marshall chuckle a bit from beside him. Lei couldn't think of anything worse to do at the moment than laugh at Paul. Although he looked docile, as depressed as he was, he was still Paul. His temper would never leave him no matter how sullen he was. Lei's assumption was correct. Although at first, Paul didn't appear to have heard Marshall, in a few moments, he was out of his seat and heading toward the door again. Lei looked over at Marshall with an angry look.  
  
"What on earth was that about?" Cheryl said, shocked. She decided that she wasn't having fun anymore. Everyone was leaving the table upset, and by the looks of things, Lei and Marshall were about to fight and do the same, and then she would be all alone and be the last one to get up and go, looking like a fool in front of the other contestants and guests. Cheryl was about to save herself the wait and turn in for the night before she heard someone speak.  
  
"This table looks like it could use a little cheering up. What's with you people?" They all turned to see Violet walking their way, having given up on Jin and Ling.  
  
"Not really, the moody party has already left. Why don't you join us?" Marshall crossed his arms over his chest and nodded toward Paul's vacant seat.  
  
"That's alright. Actually, the reason I came was to ask Miss Cheryl if she wanted to dance." Lee saw Cheryl start and blush slightly before completely turning around and smiling at him.  
  
"Actually it's just Cheryl. I'd love to dance!" Cheryl stood, waved to the two at the table and waited beside Violet.  
  
"Wonderful! Then let's go, Cheryl." Violet smiled and offered her his arm, walking toward the center of the room. Lei and Marshall smiled and waved back, watching them walk to the center of the dance floor.  
  
Once Marshall was sure Paul was safely out the door and Cheryl was across the room with her dancing partner, he looked oddly at Lei then laughed aloud.  
  
"Honestly, Lei, don't you think it's hilarious?"  
  
"I do not think it's funny at all. Paul is obviously in a lot of pain, and having his best friend laugh at him does not help him by any means, I'm sure." Lei said, his accent thickening with his anger. He leaned back, a bit disappointed in Marshall.  
  
"I'm not his best friend. Forrest is," Marshall took on a sour look for a moment at the thought of his son, but chuckled again shortly after, "besides, think about it. Paul Phoenix, the 'island', is in love! It's an absolute riot! He'll get over this whole ordeal in a matter of hours, and so will she. Then, we'll start to see things happening. Mark my words." Lei paused to think for a moment.  
  
"You shouldn't have laughed at him..." he said stubbornly.  
  
"Oh, be quiet. He won't care about that. He just needs to be alone for a bit." Marshall gave a small, but earnest smile, his gaze toward nothing in particular.  
  
"Speaking of Forrest, where is he?" Lei looked around, not seeing the younger man who had come to look up to the three older men in a way almost reflecting idolism. Lei, Marshall, and particularly Paul, were his heroes. Even if he hadn't entered the tournament, Lei would have expected him to, and almost hoped that he had, at least come as a guest. He had not seen him all day, and that disturbed him.  
  
The sour look that returned to Marshall's face confirmed Lei's suspicions that something was amiss.  
  
For a moment, Marshall Law said nothing. Lei had hit a sore spot for him, and it burned. Marshall readjusted himself in his seat before speaking.  
  
"Forrest was taken from me," he fumed through gritted teeth, "from home one day while I was running the restaurant. He disappeared while he was working in the kitchen."  
  
"Kidnapped?" Lei blurted, almost too loudly. He looked around to see that no one seemed to have noticed, so his attention went fully back to Marshall, and he leaned in closer.  
  
"Yes. And Heihachi Mishima is the man who took him away. I'm almost positive it was to get me to join the tournament again. He didn't have to; I was going to anyway."  
  
"But this is terrible! Why would he-" Lei had to stop as he noticed Heihachi himself heading their way.  
  
Kazuya watched almost predatorily as the older Mishima moved along the ballroom floor. While his companion had stopped talking to watch the men and women in the center of the room with a partiality toward Jin and Xiaoyu, Kazuya began considering his next move. He wondered whether he should even wait for the tournament to begin before taking Heihachi out. He would rather fight his father under the observation of a crowd, but he was growing impatient. The man had stolen G Corporation's opportunity to learn more about Kazuya, and he was particularly angry because of his own interests in the project.  
  
The purpose of that project was the Devil Gene inside him. G Corporation wanted to use the gene for scientific study; Kazuya wanted to use it to augment his own power. The Devil Gene; wrought by the hatred Kazuya had for his father, festering since Kazuya was but a boy, and amplified by his unrelenting desire for revenge; had allowed him to become as powerful as he was-and he was still growing stronger. Kazuya knew that if he could tap its energies from within, he could be the strongest fighter in the world without dispute. It may even grant him immortality. It certainly was a miracle he was alive, with or without the technology G Corporation had used to resurrect him.  
  
Twenty years ago, Heihachi had thrown his son into the mouth of a volcano. He had died then. G Corporation revived Kazuya, learned of the Devil Gene, and studied him, which he complied with voluntarily for his own reasons. Kazuya needed to lay low to nurture his rather unique quality until an opportune moment, all while Heihachi still thought him dead.  
  
His hopes had disintegrated when Heihachi's Mishima Zaibatsu had attacked G Corporation and stolen all the data pertaining to the Devil Gene. Kazuya had vowed then that he would take back everything Heihachi had stolen from him. Kazuya smirked when he thought of the irony. Most of what Kazuya had owned he stole from Heihachi in the first place.  
  
Deciding things had become too quiet, he looked over at the woman sitting across from him. She was certainly an interesting person, and despite everything he had said on the balcony, he could not discern her reasoning for entering the tournament. Everything he had said was really what he believed to be true, but that could not be the only reason. Kazuya chuckled softly as he watched her laugh at Jin and Ling, who were still trying to learn to dance, although Violet had abandoned them. Steve Fox was still with them, but he wasn't much help. He knew nothing about ballroom dancing himself. Kazuya looked over at the young Korean Hwoarang, who was laughing the loudest of anyone in the hall. Kazuya was almost certain the vulgar boy couldn't know any more than either of his victims, as crude as his behavior always seemed. Kazuya was almost tempted to get up and teach Jin to dance himself. Almost.  
  
When he looked back at his companion, her attention had strayed from the couple on the dance floor and had found its way to Heihachi, finally, who was now sitting with her new friends. Kazuya saw Cheryl on the dance floor and found that she was also giving particular interest to the conversation. From each woman's distance, they couldn't possibly have heard what was being said, but Kazuya was certain that it was about something neither wanted to miss. Now he knew, at least to some extent, what they were doing here. It had something to do with his father.  
  
As he watched, Kiley's expression darkened while she tried to determine Heihachi's reason for speaking with Marshall and Lei. The conversation seemed to have taken an ill turn – Kazuya also noticed the way the three men had leaned inward over the table and lowered their voices. More importantly, he noticed the man called Marshall Law's expression as his conversation with Kazuya's father became more heated. No one at the table spoke above a strong whisper. None seemed to be focused on anything but the other two in front of him. But Marshall's fists were turning white at the arms of his chair, and his teeth were becoming ever more visible in a vicious snarl. Kiley looked as though she was going to try to interrupt Heihachi to save her new friends, but Kazuya decided he wasn't finished analyzing her yet.  
  
"Would you like to dance?" he said coolly, just as she began to move.  
  
"What?" she looked at him blankly, nearly tripping out of her seat. He reiterated his question, but received the same vacant stare after a blink or two. He smirked suddenly, and rose. Seizing her hand, he led her to a spot near his son and his date, but kept enough distance between them to not tumble with them when they would undoubtedly fail again, he knew. He was right. As soon as Jin noticed his father standing practically right next to him, his head turned and missed Xiaoyu's foot coming for his again. Down they went.  
  
Up until that time, he had gotten the hang of watching their feet to avoid this situation, but Jin still wasn't quite used to his father's presence, and wasn't quite sure he liked him. Kazuya was fine with that; he had little use for the boy, and any affection his son might show toward him may thwart his current plans; the most important one being the downfall of the Mishima Empire, and the death of the man who ruled over it.  
  
Jin rose, helping Xiaoyu do the same, apologizing pathetically though it wasn't his fault. They tried again. Kazuya finally stopped moving and turned toward his companion with a slightly disturbing grin on his face. The expression he received in turn told him that he should try to be a little less intimidating if he didn't want her to leave before he gathered all the information he needed.  
  
Kazuya took up the still flustered woman's hand and positioned himself for a waltz. Kiley wasn't sure this was where she wanted to be, but accepted the situation nonetheless, placing her other hand at his shoulder. She hoped it hadn't been so long since her last dance that she ended up like the young Chinese girl Kazuya's son was dancing with. Tentatively, she tried to move gracefully while still keeping up with Kazuya, who was moving perfectly in time with the music. Where he of all people had learned to waltz, or why, she couldn't understand, but nevertheless, he was good at it. After one or two complete turns, she decided she wasn't as bad as she thought she would be, and focused less on the movement of her feet and more on their tempo. Within seconds, she and Kazuya were in step together, and she relaxed a bit more. Kazuya smiled more genuinely, then smirked over at his son.  
  
"Watch this, boy. You're not in time with the music, and so you're tripping all over each other trying to find a common pace," he nodded to the younger couple, then centered his attention once again on his intriguing partner. For a moment, she looked back toward the table at which her friends were speaking with Heihachi, but figured they were big boys and could take care of themselves. For now, at least.  
  
Jin simmered over the obscure insult by his father, but decided accepting his help this once would save him a world of trouble should he ever decide to try this again. It would probably even save him an injury or two from Xiaoyu's uncharacteristic clumsiness. The two stopped for a moment to learn.  
  
"Kiley," he caught her attention, "what is it you do for a living again?" He tried to remember the conversation at dinner, but realized he was too absorbed in trying to find out her motives at the time to listen to most of what had been going on.  
  
"Well, it's not proper protocol to divulge, but since Heihachi seems to have known already, there's really no point in hiding it here. Cheryl and I are both agents for the U.S. government, Kazuya. We were hired as field agents, but have been mostly doing deskwork for a while now," she responded, looking him in the eye for the first time since they had gotten up to dance.  
  
After watching her for a moment, he chuckled, "and I suppose your little overseas visit has nothing to do with my father's crooked business circuit?"  
  
"Nothing whatsoever," she lied. Kazuya laughed aloud, causing Jin to jump once again, but he managed to stay standing this time. Mimicking the movements of his father, Jin had actually managed to correct most of his previous faults, but Xiaoyu was still trying to understand why her feet seemed to keep homing in on Jin's.  
  
"Please, I saw your registration form in my father's office. Someone did it for you. One of your superiors, no doubt," Kazuya let his voice trail, thinking he had cornered her.  
  
"Maybe I simply asked someone to do it because I think red tape is such a hassle. I do enough of that at work. I don't need more to worry about," suddenly, she shot him a smirk that rivaled his own in guile, "anyway, what were you doing in Heihachi's private offices? I could arrest you for prowling, you know."  
  
He was taken aback by the sudden change in character, but quickly cooled himself, and responded sarcastically, "not unless you're hiding handcuffs somewhere in that dress, gorgeous," and after giving her a quick looking over, he winked and said, "but I doubt that." His response had gotten him much the same reaction that Kiley's imitation of Kazuya's expression had from him. Her foot missed a beat, and he nearly fell over her before she quickly picked up again. She glared at him.  
  
"Kazuya, if that was some half-assed attempt at flirting with me, you'd better take it back now, or I'll leave you here." Kazuya saw no sign of a joke in her expression, but stared down at her indignantly nonetheless.  
  
"Why, are you afraid your man Phoenix will hear about it?" This time, she did stop.  
  
"Not you too," she gave an irritated groan and stepped back. He stared for a moment, at a loss as to what she meant, but remained obstinate.  
  
"He hangs around you enough, and seems to be jealous of me already. That comment wasn't particularly directed at you, but I'm not sure why you allow it. Trash like Paul doesn't deserve such attention. I don't know what happened to make you so annoyed with him, but it's probably for the best. That's just the way he is. An irritating vermin, always stirring things up..."  
  
Kiley suddenly felt thoroughly defensive toward her friend, but figured there wasn't much she could do against a life-long rivalry, even older than herself. She sighed, and hesitantly accepted his roundabout apology.  
  
"Fine," she huffed, "I'll just say you're a dirty old man, and call it even." From a few feet away, they heard Jin scoff – or chortle – at the comment directed toward his father, reveling in the blatant disrespect Kazuya was receiving. Kazuya got the last laugh when Jin realized he had been paying too much attention to their conversation and not enough to his footing. He stepped heavily on Xiaoyu's slipper, bringing a shrill yelp from the teenage combatant. After a few minutes of watching his offspring frantically apologize more, finally ending the abuse and leaving the dance floor to sit, Kazuya turned back to Kiley. From the opposite direction, he noticed that Cheryl and the man with dark glasses had moved a bit closer to them. No doubt growing concerned for the woman whom he had upset. She seemed normal enough again, and the last comment she made was probably an attempt to bring the previous humor back into the conversation. Still, the jab could have been labeled as accurate, considering he had actually been flirting with her and was more than twenty years her senior. He let it slide.  
  
"Hrmm," he nodded finally, and she allowed him to dance with her once again. They continued to dance until the orchestra finished the current song, and Kiley said she was going to turn in. Kazuya still didn't feel that he knew everything he needed to about this woman, but decided that tomorrow was another day, and it looked to him that she wasn't going to be anywhere near Paul for a while.  
  
Paul. He remembered the utterly distraught look on the man's face when the two had entered the ballroom together. She had been with him and the other three most of the day, but apparently, something had happened after Kazuya left the dinner table that had raised Kiley's hackles. Paul was devastated. And why shouldn't he be? The woman was clever, attractive, graceful, and intelligent; in Kazuya's astute opinion, exactly the type of woman Paul would fall for because of his own obvious shortcomings. Kazuya certainly liked her well enough.  
  
Deciding there was no real reason for him to stay, Kazuya left the ballroom grinning wickedly. He had found the perfect bait for drawing in one of his oldest, and most obtrusive, enemies.


	8. Poolside Madness

The usual - I don't own Tekken, its characters, or the CIA, but I own Kiley and Cheryl owns Cheryl. FEAR THE SPORK!

Many thanks to those who reviewed! (All four of you!) A special thanks to Anni23 for reviewing TWICE! Please continue to do so! New input is much appreciated. -.-

I'm sorry it took so long…classes and whatnot. I have no idea how regular the updating of this story will be, but please continue to read. I appreciate feedback.

I must say that information releases for Tekken 5 have played merry hell with my plot. I'm going to stick with the original plan, though. Bloody Namco, postponing release until March… (edit: Needless to say, this chapter was begun a loooong time ago)

Uh-no synopsis for this chapter; it's just me continuing to be stingy and delaying the beginning of the tournament for the purpose of character development (and my own twisted sense of humor).  
Hooray for crappy chapter titles!  
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By the time Cheryl had arrived at her and Kiley's cabin that night, her friend was already asleep. Cheryl had wanted to ask her so much; what happened after she had left the dinner table, how she had met up with Kazuya, what Kazuya was like, what they had talked about, and, darn it, was he a good dancer? Perhaps most importantly, she wanted to know what had upset her shortly before she had left. Then again, she seemed to have gotten over it quickly, or Kazuya had somehow weaseled his way out of a few busted teeth. Cheryl understood what the others were saying about Kazuya being some kind of demonic powerhouse. Cheryl didn't know Kazuya. What she did know better than anyone was Kiley. She knew that when she was angry, Kiley could be pretty vicious.

She snorted when she saw that Kiley hadn't even bothered to change out of her evening gown before throwing herself haphazardly onto the mattress; she wasn't even really on the pillows. As soon as she changed into her shorts, Cheryl picked up one of her own pillows and threw it at Kiley's head. The other woman groaned, but otherwise showed no sign of stirring. Cheryl got comfortable under the covers, but realized she only had one pillow. Muttering to herself, she quickly got back up, took her pillow back, and crawled back under the warm blankets, fixing her pillows perfectly under her head.

Once again, she looked over at Kiley. Again pillowless, and now with a sorry looking scuff in her perfect hairdo, Kiley looked pitiable. She was too careless sometimes, but in combat conditions could usually find her way out of any situation on her own. However, also knowing her well through field experience, Jack always assigned Cheryl, the more rational of the two friends, to go with her and keep her from getting herself killed. Cheryl wasn't sure how that would work out this time. The people they were up against now could kill with their fists, or any other assortment of appendages they used for their respective martial arts. It was nothing at all like the raids back home where their targets relied on firearms or teargas. Whether at a distance or within close combat range, they were always in danger. But Kiley would be in the middle again, while all Cheryl could do was watch. She grew concerned again.

With a slight grunt, Cheryl stretched one of her arms over the expanse of the nightstand between their beds. Grasping one of Kiley's pillows by the corner, she pulled it more firmly into her fist and brought it to her. Then, with a heave, she chucked it back at Kiley, who grunted again, and twitched a little this time. "This is all your fault," Cheryl grumbled. Kiley said nothing.

Cheryl sighed, and turned away from her. Deciding to think happy thoughts instead, she remembered her evening with Violet. A good looking man, despite the fact that he never removed his sunglasses, had asked Cheryl to dance that night, and he had actually been interesting. Unlike the usual prospects, Violet had an uncanny sense of humor for a rich playboy type. Of course, Cheryl knew nothing about him, so she wouldn't think about that. She would just remember dancing. But while the night had been running through her head, she also remembered Kazuya.

She sighed, realizing it was hopeless, and decided to merely think about Violet's face as she tried to sleep again. Impishly, she turned over again to look at Kiley, who was of course still asleep.

"I can't wait to tell you about him in the morning," she grinned, "it looks like I'm going to outdo you for once."

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

The next morning, Kiley was still asleep by the time Cheryl opened her eyes. It was only 5:30, but the sun was already coming up over the expanse of sea out their window. Cheryl stood, stretching and yawning, then walked behind where Kiley had been sleeping. The pillow was still there on top of her head, and Cheryl was alarmed for a moment that she may have suffocated. She removed the cushion. Kiley was still breathing. With a relieved sigh, Cheryl held the pillow for a moment, watching her friend sleep. Apparently, she had at least removed her make up before she had gone to bed. That was good. At least then, it wouldn't get all over the pillow when Cheryl beat her with it a second later.

"Wake up!" she yelled, "it's time to wake up and go meet all our friends by the pool! Come on, I promised we'd be there!"

"What? What time is it?" Kiley looked around warily, warding off the next few hits with one arm, actually sitting up.

"It's five thirty, sleepy-head," Cheryl sat next to her and hugged her tightly, smiling happily, "we want to get an early start so we can get in the water before we arrive at the island." Still not quite awake, Kiley patted Cheryl's back and looked around. Then she looked down.

"Crikey!" she exclaimed, "How could I have fallen asleep this way?"

"I dunno, I just kind of figured you were too worn out to change. You had quite an evening, dear," Cheryl said with guile, "geez, all those men want to take you away and marry you and you don't even know it!"

"Wait, who?" came the drowsy reply.

"No one, dear," Cheryl sighed, "come on, get up; there's a lot I want to talk about."

"Why don't you go ahead? I need to get out of this dress…" Kiley stood shakily, moving off to the bathroom where they both had stashed their bathing suits. Before she closed the door, she threw Cheryl's out toward her bed. As Cheryl moved to pick it up, she heard a booming yawn. She chuckled, knowing it was Paul and the others, moving past their room, but knowing better than to knock on the ladies' door this early in the morning.

Cheryl smiled suddenly, thinking about how happy Paul would be when he realized Kiley wasn't angry anymore. It dawned on Cheryl that at the moment, Kiley probably didn't even remember why she had been angry in the first place, but it would soon come back to her as she became more conscious.

"I'm not going anywhere without you, being dressed like this!" Cheryl raised her voice to be heard through the door, receiving a heavy sigh in response. She finished adjusting her swimsuit, wondering if they would be out long enough to do some tanning, and watched the window while she reached for her suitcase, pulling out various items until she reached the one she wanted. Like their evening gowns, the two women had chosen similar swimming attire for the trip. Although different in color, Cheryl's being red and Kiley's being blue, they were the same pattern, sort of a tie-dye-ish swirl of different shades of the color of the fabric.

Tying tightly the fashionable sarong that had come with her bikini, she decided to search in Kiley's suitcase for the other, thus saving them some time. She didn't find it, indicating that somehow Kiley had slipped past her with the wrap, but it didn't matter. She pinned her hair into a bun, using some chopsticks she had stolen from the sushi bar in the ballroom the previous night.

"Umm…how about this…? They're probably waiting, so why don't you go ahead and meet them? I'm having…complications with my appearance," Kiley called from the bathroom, followed by a yelp of pain and a loud thump.

"Are you okay?" Cheryl screeched, trying to open the door, but it was locked.

"…yeah… I dropped my brush." Inside the bathroom, Kiley was trying to figure out what could have happened to her hair, being in such disarray. She knew she had woken up in the same position she had fallen asleep in, so she couldn't have done it herself by tossing around. Then she remembered being bludgeoned with a pillow when she woke up. She groaned, but picked up the brush and continued to straighten her hair.

"Okay. Can I at least come in and brush my teeth and stuff?" Kiley confirmed, and unlocked the door. Her hair was a mess, and her zipper was stuck halfway down her back. Cheryl laughed. She pulled the zipper down all the way then continued toward the large, black marble sink. While Kiley continued to battle with her tangled locks, Cheryl brushed her teeth, put her suntan lotion on, fixed her bikini straps, twice so that they would fit better, and painted her fingernails the same color as her outfit. Kiley glared at her dangerously after just barely managing to pull her hair into a high ponytail.

"Right," said Cheryl, slowly backing away, "I'll just go on ahead now. Bye!" Cheryl left her to complete the same steps she just had, and picked up her handbag. She left the key behind so that Kiley could lock up when she left, and went out the door. She was almost ten minutes late, but she was on her way.

Up the stairs she went, to the main deck where most of the lounging was done, and where the pool, the outdoor dining tables, and the shuffleboard lanes were. Heihachi's ship wasn't too different from a cruise liner, if a bit smaller. Cheryl realized that she and Kiley hadn't even had the chance to see more than half the ship because of the numerous activities Heihachi had lined up for his guests. Like this pool outing.

Around eleven o'clock the previous night, when Heihachi ended the ball, he had announced that he wanted everyone to join him that day at the pool, even as early as before sunrise. Heihachi would be there all day, until they arrived at the Zaibatsu headquarters that evening. Cheryl had agreed to meet Marshall and the others around this time. They had even invited Violet, Steve, and Hwoarang, but no one was really counting on the younger two to wake up that early. To her surprise, when she reached the pool, she saw that, somehow, Violet had gotten them up and outside. They were all in poolside clothes, some in swimming trunks, but most had T-shirts on as well, not really planning on actually getting in the water anyway.

They were the first group out of their rooms to join Heihachi, who was also with them, talking and laughing. All of the men at the table were, with the exception of Lei and Marshall, whose backs were turned to her for the moment.

Noticing Cheryl walking toward them finally, Marshall's expression lit up. He waved and smiled warmly, beckoning her to sit with them. His expression faltered slightly, but Cheryl didn't take offense. She knew why he seemed a bit disappointed. When the two had made the arrangements for their morning get-together, it was understood that Marshall would bring Paul along, and Cheryl would bring Kiley. Cheryl saw that he had held up his end of the bargain, for Paul was sitting next to him, speaking with Heihachi. He looked up and smiled at her, but turned back to Heihachi quickly. She chuckled; she could see that he was still a bit hurt.

Turning back to Marshall, she winked, letting him know that she hadn't forgotten. Marshall looked relieved, glanced at Paul briefly, and moved his chair to the side for her to pull another in for herself. Cheryl gratefully did so. Lei, who was on the other side of the space she had just taken, leaned into her ear.

"Where is she? You didn't tell her we were bringing Paul, did you?" he whispered. Waiting for an answer, he looked at her nervously.

"Didn't you hear me scheming with Marshall last night?" she whispered back, "I told you that Kiley shouldn't be angry any more, and if she is, she's getting over it. That's just the way she is, she's not one to dwell on little things like that. Incidentally, no, I didn't even tell her which of you was going to be here or not. Even if I had told her, she wouldn't have cared. Besides, she's on her way. Chin up, Lei; everything's going to be all right." She smiled at him comfortingly, which calmed him a bit. Like Marshall, he began to relax at last.

"What's this? We can't be having any secrets among friends, can we?" Heihachi smiled over at the newly arrived guest, reaching over to shake her hand once again. Lei was about to make the comment that the man was no friend of anyone there, but Cheryl swiftly intervened.

"It's no big secret, Heihachi, we just didn't want to interrupt your talk with the others," she said tactfully, nodding toward Violet, Paul, and the two younger boys, who actually seemed to be engrossed by the eldest Mishima. Since she had arrived, from Hwoarang she heard nothing but questions about Heihachi's grandson, and Steve knew nothing of the Mishimas or their worldwide corporation. Both seemed terribly interested, and barely gave either Violet or Paul a word in edgewise. The two older men considered themselves defeated, and gladly gave way to youthful inquisitiveness.

After a few moments passed, others began arriving on the deck. Cheryl began to wonder where Kiley could be, and considered going back after her. Before she could move, Heihachi rose.

"Well, gentlemen, it's been a pleasure," he smiled at her again, "Miss Cheryl, I'm glad to have gotten to see you again this morning. I'm afraid I must go see to it that all of my guests are properly greeted upon their arrival. I'll speak with you all again later in the day." Heihachi nodded to the group and went on his way. Cheryl watched him go, and saw that there were more guests than she realized. There were a few she had not seen before, whether at dinner, or while she was dancing, and they didn't look like martial artists either. She figured they must be guests of other contestants, like herself, and decided it didn't really matter. As Heihachi greeted the newest group warmly, she turned back to her friends.

"Hello, Cheryl," Violet smiled at her, finally able to greet her without talking through Heihachi, "did you sleep well?" Cheryl blushed slightly, still not quite able to get over how handsome he was. The sunglasses added a bit of mystery to his face; she still did not know what color his eyes were, and likewise knew almost nothing about him. He was wearing the same outfit he'd had on the previous day when she'd met him. She decided she definitely liked that outfit.

"Yes, I did, actually. I got to sleep almost right after I climbed into bed. What about you? How is everyone?" In response, she received a few tired grunts, and an "all right, I guess" from one of the younger men. She laughed sympathetically. In truth, she still felt a bit sleepy herself, but everyone was already gathered, so there was no point in dispersing to get more sleep and come back later.

"Where's your friend, Cheryl? I thought she might be with you…" the Briton Steve looked around the deck, to get booted under the table by Violet, who also knew of Cheryl and Marshall's plans. Steve yelped, and Cheryl laughed nervously. She looked over at Paul, who was also discreetly scanning the deck for any sign of her.

"Unfortunately, Kiley didn't have as much luck as the rest of us in getting up and ready this early. Suffice it to say, she is not a morning person," she laughed again, remembering Kiley's appearance earlier that morning, and smiled at the blonde boxer, but said as much to Paul as anyone else, "don't worry; she's on her way."

"So," Violet stretched out his arms and folded his hands in front of him, leaning forward for a more private conversation among friends, "I think we all need to talk about last night. A lot was happening in that room, maybe some of which I didn't even catch. Marshall, Lei, what's up? Cheryl, did you get to talk to Kiley about whatever happened with her and Kazuya?" Violet liked to take charge of a situation, and given the importance of the events unraveling around them, it was a much-needed push for the others, who seemed almost unwilling to bring any of it up.

"What happened last night?" Paul bolted upright suddenly, having been slouched in his seat the whole time, somewhat depressed. He hadn't been so bad before Cheryl had arrived, but noticing Kiley wasn't with her, possibly because he was there, made him upset again. Marshall patted him on the back, shaking his head at his friend's predictability given the circumstances. Despite any effort he may have given to hide the fact, they all knew Paul was referring to Kazuya. He was especially angry because one of the last things he saw at the dance that night was Kazuya playing escort to Kiley.

"Hey, that's right, you missed some pretty juicy stuff back there, Paul," Cheryl raised an eyebrow, looking at him wryly. His face turned to her instantly, the two loose tresses hanging from his ponytail whipping about his face. His mouth hung open slightly, questioning what she might mean. His eyes still looked wounded, but were quickly building up a fair amount of anger that made Cheryl think it would be wise to just tell him what happened before he got too curious. He was a large man, and she wasn't willing to find out how many bones he could break in her body all at once if he wanted the information badly enough. However, it was too tempting to tease him about it more. Marshall seemed to think so as well.

"She's right, Paul. The two dancing, conversing like old friends, laughing with each other… and that was just Cheryl and Violet, here!" he gestured to the man sitting at the other end of the table, who nodded, smiling at Marshall's little taunt. Violet remembered well what had happened afterward then, and his expression froze. He now realized what part of the previous night Paul was about to find out about, none too pleasantly. He watched Paul's already grim expression grow more severe as Marshall continued to build the suspense.

"Marshall…" Once again, Lei decided his friend was going too far. His interruption went unheeded. Violet caught Lei's eye for a moment, and the two held their breath through the next hit.

"And then, there were Kiley and Kazuya! Now, that was something right out of a fairy tale; Kazuya in his less-than-conventional, yet dashing purple tuxedo; Kiley, absolutely radiant! I was waiting for the Disney chorus to start singing 'Cinderella' tunes! I never thought of Kazuya as a dancer, you know? But he's actually really good at it. What do you think, Cheryl?"

Cheryl couldn't respond. She merely watched, horrified, as the muscles in Paul's jaw and neck slowly tightened the entire time Marshall had been speaking. Lei slowly began pulling her away from Marshall by the arm of her chair, knowing what was sure to come next.

Marshall heard the chair next to him subtly scooting in the opposite direction. He simply smiled, watching Paul's expression twist dangerously, knowing that the other man probably wanted to kill him at that moment, and everyone at the table knew it too. However, Marshall seemed to be the only one to know that wouldn't happen. The others were simply too terrified to notice the woman coming to stand right behind Paul, whom they had all been watching so tentatively.

"Good morning, everyone!" came a merry voice from above them. With the exception of Marshall, they all jumped at the sudden sound, hearts pounding. Stumbling to get up, Paul whirled to face the owner of that voice, who smiled up at him warmly and waved. "Good morning, Paul," said Kiley, lifting her sunglasses to rest above her forehead.

Paul tried desperately to respond, but the hammering in his chest wouldn't subside. Instead, he merely stood there, sweating; despite the fact that the sun was only just now rising, and it was only fifty degrees on the open ocean, he was incredibly warm. Finally, after staring at her for a moment, he strangled out, "uh, hi." Not Mr. Phoenix's brightest moment. Cheryl nudged Lei and winked.

"What took you so long?" Cheryl inquired, moving aside for Kiley to sit, but her friend continued to stand in a vacant space between Marshall and Paul.

"I decided to wash my hair again. It looked awful after you assaulted me with that pillow this morning," she received several odd stares, "but not too many brain cells were damaged. How is everyone?"

"Erm…" Violet hesitated, taken aback not only by her sudden appearance, but also by her previous statement, and the delicate subject matter that they had been discussing, "actually, we were just talking about you. Among other things. I am now aware of your business here in the tournament. Cheryl let my esteemed, albeit younger, colleagues and myself in on it at the party last night after you left. We were also talking about…some of the occurrences we witnessed beforehand."

Kiley looked at Cheryl.

"We need all the help we can get," Cheryl shrugged, sheepishly. Kiley didn't pay it any more mind.

"That reminds me," she said before Violet could continue, crossing her arms in front of her, "I saw Lei and Marshall talking to Heihachi. What was that all about? You seemed a tad miffed."

"It was nothing," Marshall looked at Lei, who was about to reply, "merely Heihachi being an arrogant git, as usual. We made a wager," he lied. With another look from Marshall, Lei decided not to ask what that wager was. He nodded, reluctant to keep something so dire from his friends, but it was Marshall's business. He remained silent.

"And there was something else we all wanted to ask you," Violet decided not to dwell on the blatant lie, "I'm sure _you_ won't hold anything back from us." Violet looked over at Marshall, who merely shrugged non-chalantly through crossed arms. No one else seemed to want to press Marshall, and so they focused on Violet's question.

Kiley stared down at them all for a moment. Cheryl and Paul were especially anxious. Cheryl stared back up at her while Paul leaned back in his chair, watching her as well. He wanted to speak to her desperately, but he waited because he had known Violet would bring this up almost immediately.

"Did Kazuya threaten you?" Violet went on, "We all know he's prone to do so. The entire dinner party saw the…uh…conversation he had with Paul."

Kiley shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"He didn't threaten me," she finally responded in a dry tone, "he was being crass."

Cheryl could have died, wondering if her best friend could be any less specific. Being the only one who hadn't been there to see, Paul felt similarly frustrated. He leaned forward to look her in the eye, but Lei managed to speak first.

"Crass…how?" Lei was really asking what the word "crass" itself meant. His grasp of English was fluent, but he didn't know everything about it. He didn't have to let the others know that.

"Several implications can come with that word," one of Violet's eyebrows twitched impatiently.

"He was being pig-headed." She glared at them, not really wanting to explain, but at the same time, not seeing a way around it. She lowered her head and mumbled, "He was flirting with me."

Several jaws dropped, Cheryl went pale, and Paul became furious once he overcame the initial shock. Before he could speak, however, Marshall intervened.

"Well, these are our last hours aboard our gracious host's cruise liner. Let's not waste them, hmm? Kiley, have a seat." He reached to the table behind them and pulled a chair between himself and Paul. Kiley took it, and sat herself down, smiling first at Marshall, then at Paul. Paul grinned back impishly, knowing that an opportunity to talk with less of an audience would come soon enough. Finally satisfied, Paul relaxed with that grin plastered onto his face for several minutes. Pushing Kazuya to the back of his mind, he became more attentive.

Violet, however, leaned back, frustrated. He received little information from the answers he had gotten, and everyone else seemed content to leave it at that. He looked to Cheryl who shrugged in return, but seemed to be happy that the scheme she and Marshall had concocted worked. He didn't expect her to know anything about the events that took place the night before. She had seemed more receptive to his anxieties than anyone else present though, and that was a start.

Violet knew that Kazuya Mishima's resurrection could only be an evil omen. Kazuya had to be up to something, other than his usual murderous disposition toward his father. Still more troubling in Violet's mind was, how in the world did Kazuya survive the volcano twenty years earlier?

Lost in his thoughts, Violet hardly realized that the others were laughing mirthfully. Kiley had disappeared during his reflections, and now Paul and Marshall were teasing Cheryl.

"Kiley's wearing a bathing suit too, why don't you tell her to take a swim?" she cowered away from them, leaning into Lei, who was the only one to come to her defense.

"Leave her alone," his thick accent posed, as if he were speaking to children, "she does not want to swim. You two go."

"What's this?" Violet chuckled at the scene before him, "I lose myself for two minutes at most, and the lot of you are already up to something. In all seriousness, quit ganging up on her, other people might get weird ideas." Steve and Hwoarang continued to laugh at this, but Lei was forcing an arm between Cheryl and the other two men, continuing to try to dissuade them.

Violet looked around briefly, noting that most of the martial artists, along with their guests, were now on deck, either in the pool or talking at the various tables around the pool. He noticed a drink stand, and saw Kiley there. She had a tray with several glasses balanced on her shoulder and was making her way back. As she rounded the last corner, Paul and Marshall finally got hold of Cheryl, who began to shriek.

Wondering what they might be up to, Kiley slowed down, and steadied the tray in both hands. Watching as she came closer, she laughed a little bit at how crazy everyone else must think they are. Then she watched Paul lift Cheryl up over his head, Lei grab desperately for her, Violet suddenly stand, and Marshall dive into the water ahead of her as Paul tossed her in, ignoring her screams.

Violet heard glass break. Kiley had dropped the glasses, breaking into a full run, although she had bits of broken glass in her sandals. He rolled his eyes at the situation and hurried to the poolside. Paul looked up to see them both storming after him.

"What's wrong, it's just a little water!" he shrugged.

"How could you do that, she can't swim!" Kiley screamed at him. Paul stopped smiling, and he looked into the water. Kiley was about to dive in, but her arm was caught by Violet, who went in headlong instead, fully dressed, and with sunglasses. Kiley looked up at Paul, who smiled sheepishly. He had been about to jump in as well, but Violet flying past him nearly made him fall flat on his face. Marshall, who had been underwater, wasn't sure what was going on, but he laughed when he saw Violet in his wet clothes. He sobered considerably when he saw Cheryl choking.

Kiley knelt next to Cheryl, wrapping a towel around her. Cheryl nodded to her friend, shivering. Violet sat at her other side, wringing out his shirt. Marshall scrambled to get up to see if she was all right, and Paul was kneeling in front of her, laughing nervously while apologizing frantically.

"It's okay, Paul, you didn't know," Cheryl said between coughs, laughing herself.

Marshall felt a bit guilty as well, and so he apologized. Cheryl stood, telling them over and over that she forgave them.

"We'll just have to make sure it doesn't happen again," she said, turning toward the cabins, "I'm going to go get changed. Don't worry, I'll be back." She laughed a bit louder now that her breathing came easier once again.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Kiley asked, already heading toward the cabins with her.

"No, you stay here and make sure they don't plot anything for when I get back. I want them six feet from me from now until we're no longer anywhere near a pool or any sort of body of water."

"That's a little harsh, don't you think?" Marshall chuckled, but stopped when Kiley glared at him.

Cheryl stepped delicately around the broken glass on the deck and went on her way. Seeing the colored shards reminded Kiley that her feet were stinging. She looked down to see some of her toes bleeding, and one sandal was seeping blood from the sole of her foot. That foot had gone completely numb, and she would have fallen over sideways, had Violet not been there to hold her up.

"A right mess the two of us are, eh?" he laughed, slinging his shirt over one shoulder and leading Kiley, who hopped on one foot, back to their table. Heihachi met them and asked several questions after the well being of all involved. "Is everyone all right? Do either of you need medical attention?" and so forth.

"We'll be fine, Cheryl just needs to get dried off and warm, and I need to bandage up my foot," Kiley winced when she removed her sandals, looking at the cuts.

"First, we need to get that glass out," Marshall inspected one foot gingerly, then deftly plucked one tiny shard out of her little toe. She made a noise in protest, but gritted her teeth and allowed him to help. Heihachi ordered some of the waiters to clean up the glass, although Kiley wanted to help. Heihachi wouldn't allow it. Instead, he told her to stay put and called for a first aid kit.

The madness now over, the other passengers went back to their own business. A game of water volleyball resumed, and the bustle of conversation began anew. The first aid kit came and Kiley received a pair of tweezers. She and Marshall continued to remove the glass from her skin, the others hovering over them.

"There's another one there," Steve tried to help, with Hwoarang beside him. Kiley thanked them, but minded her work.

Paul was sitting in the seat next to her with his head in his hands, laughing to himself.

"I'm so sorry," he said, but couldn't keep from smiling, "I screwed up big time."

"It's okay, Paul," Kiley assured him once more, "you couldn't have known Cheryl can't swim. Otherwise, I'm sure she would have been having a blast." Finished with the bandages, she anchored herself by resting her elbow on Paul's shoulder while she slipped her sandals on over them, cringing the whole time.

"Good as new," she said, standing without remembering her numb foot. She fell onto Marshall, who helped her up again.

"I should change too. Not the smartest thing I've ever done, jumping into a pool in leather pants. But Cheryl's safe. It was worth it." Violet waved to the group, moving slowly away. Hwoarang saw Violet's clothes clinging to him, and he laughed again.

"Serves him right," said the Korean, "he's full of himself."

"That's mean, Hwoarang," Kiley said, leaning on Marshall, "Violet is very easy going. That doesn't mean he's a snob. And he just saved my best friend's life. What were you doing when he dove into the pool?" Hwoarang seemed to be ignoring her at this point. "I thought so." The hot-blooded redhead's face took an indignant expression, and Kiley laughed at him sympathetically, tousling his hair. Steve realized that he had likewise done nothing, but Kiley told them both that they had nothing to worry about.


End file.
